


i'm not your golden child

by schlattcoindealer



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: "Family Dynamics" AU, Anxiety, Eldest Child Problems, Feelings of Inadequacy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Phil is Best Dad, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schlattcoindealer/pseuds/schlattcoindealer
Summary: Wilbur's been his brothers' emotional rock for years now, sturdy and strong for their sake. He can't just burden them with his fears of inadequacy, that would just be immature of him - so he tries to keep it to himself.Fortunately, Phil is there to be a shoulder for his son to cry on.Family Dynamics AU.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 299





	i'm not your golden child

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY IF THIS IS FORMATTED BADLY. I wrote it on a 3DS, lulw. This is actually my side account for leaving nice comments on fic & for works under 1k words. My main is @KadeAK!

Wilbur fumbled with his guitar loosely, cursing under his breath as his trembling fingers struggled to keep their grasp on the right chords. He'd only reached for it to de-stress, to clear his mind from everything that plagued it, but the instrument just seemed to make things worse. Music was supposed to be his one safe space, so why was it frustrating him so much?

His head had been so noisy the past few weeks, filled with anxiety and worries of inadequacy, but Will hadn't had the heart to tell anyone. He was the dirty crime boy of the family, the chaotic older brother who did nothing but be old and shoulder the blame for his younger siblings. He was their rock, the one who they should always be able to look to for guidance and reassurance. It wasn't right to demand emotional therapy from them - Wilbur was old enough to deal with his own problems like an adult now.

The nineteen year old didn't feel like an adult now, though, not as he tried to keep his emotion at bay in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Everything felt quite overwhelming, even as he strummed the familiar melody of Saline Solution shakily. For once, the depressive lyrics of the song only served to worsen his declining mood, slackening his grasp on his mask of happiness.

Why did everything hurt so much? Not physically, but mentally. It hurt to get out of bed. It hurt to force a smile. It hurt to see Phil, to hear his dad shower praise upon him as if he were some kind of golden child. Phil called him mature a lot. Wilbur choked back a sob at the thought of it. If this was the cost of maturity, he wanted a refund.

Will tried one more time to sing the opening verse aloud, but his voice cracked and broke, crumbling to dust as tears once again angrily threatened to spill over. His hands shook and played a wrong note, and the teen had to grit his teeth in order to fight the urge to throw the guitar across the room. Maybe if it broke, Wilbur would feel some satisfaction for once. Anything was better than this.

He hated being the 'golden child', because he wasn't one. Will didn't know how he tricked Phil into thinking he was so great. His family seemed to think that he had it all together, that he was some kind of peak of emotional stability. How would they react to seeing him now? Would they try to help him? Maybe, but the looks of silent disappointment would only break Wilbur further. He didn't want to imagine how Tommy or Techno would respond. His younger brothers had never seen him so vulnerable before. And they should never have to. Wilbur was a wreck, raw and bloody and helpless to the tides of fate. It was nobody's responsibility but his own to clean up the mess, surely.

Setting the guitar aside, Wilbur drew into a ball on his bed, shivering violently. Something warm dribbled down his face, and he realised with a start that he was crying. Why was he crying? A pitiful sob shuddered through his body, and suddenly he felt like he was nine again, just adopted by Phil and starved beyond belief for a warm embrace. He felt so cold, so alone, so empty. Of course, nobody would come to save him this time. Will wasn't a needy child anymore, and Phil wasn't going to fight his battles forever. The teen had to bite back a louder sob at that thought.

He wanted to be held. Wilbur buried his face in his hoodie and clutched his knees to his chest, but it didn't help. He wanted warmth. He wanted comfort. He wanted Phil.

At that realisation, he broke down, trying to muffle his soft cries and hasps in his hands. God, he probably looked so pathetic, crying like a baby. Tommy was supposed to be the child, not him. Still, he couldn't stop, not even as the door to his room gently pushed open.

Concerned sapphire eyes met broken brown ones. Phil seemed to freeze in the doorway at the sight of his eldest son. He was probably disappointed, Wilbur thought as he gasped feebly for air.

"Dad, I - I," Will tried to start, voice ruined by his crying. Wordlessly, Phil shut the door behind him, swiftly but gently approaching Wilbur's side. The teen unravelled gently, hand raised to cover and wipe at his tears messily.

This was it, Wilbur thought. The jig was up. Phil would realise he wasn't worthy of his respect, and he'd be disowned. Left to rot on the streets, with nothing but his guitar and a lingering sense of shame.

To his surprise, though, his father simply leaned in and gave the teen a warm, wide hug. His cloak was soft, and he pulled Wilbur in close, grasp protective and caring.

"It's okay, son," he murmured. "I've got you. It's okay."

Wilbur felt his body tremble as he clutched onto his father's cloak tightly, burying his face in his shoulder as his emotional barriers came crumbling down. He couldn't stop the tears now, sobbing loudly into the cotton as his dad simply held him close.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered between sobs, voice dropping to a whisper. "Please."

Phil simply held him closer. "I'd never do that, Will," he murmured back in reply, voice soft. "I will always be proud of you. I'll never leave you, son."

As his crying slowly died down, Wilbur clutched onto Phil's embrace as if his life depended on it. Maybe he didn't need to handle things alone, a kind, Phil-sounding idea in his head sounded. Maybe his family could help.

Resting his head limply in the crook of Phil's shoulder, Wilbur felt a tired, hesitant smile grace his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> please i want more FD!AU hurt/comfort with Wilbur being comforted please please


End file.
